Unwisely, he darted after it, and George closed the door upon him and shot the bolt.
Then the landlord stood up, and surveyed all the things that were lying on the floor.
"That's a playful dog of yours," said he to the man who had come in with the brick.
"He is not my dog," replied the man sullenly.
"Whose dog is it then ?" said the landlord.
"I don't know whose dog it is," answered the man.
"That won't do for me, you know," said the landlord, picking up a picture of the German Emperor, and wiping beer from it with his sleeve.
"I know it won't," replied the man; "I never expected it would.

I'm tired of telling people it isn't my dog.

They none of them believe me." "What do you want to go about with him for, if he's not your dog ?" said the landlord.

"What's the attraction about him ?" "I don't go about with him," replied the man; "he goes about with me.

He picked me up this morning at ten o'clock, and he won't leave me.